


White Day

by catwanmushi



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 16:49:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12461883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwanmushi/pseuds/catwanmushi
Summary: A quick drabble of Percival giving Lancelot sweets on White Day.





	White Day

**Author's Note:**

> Even though it's nowhere near March 14th, I couldn't get Percival's White Day picture out of my head, so I ended up writing this! I hate his gauntlets. Who tries to feed another person while wearing metal claws?
> 
> I wish I could have given this a nicer title, but then I wouldn't end up posting it for months. If I come up with a good one later, I'll be sure to edit it.

“I won’t accept this.”

In an instant, Percival’s smug expression disappeared. Red eyebrows furrowed down, a deep frown replacing his pleased smirk. It almost mirrored the indignation written across Lancelot’s own features as he eyed the cookie poised between the sharp claws of the other knight’s gauntlet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lancelot. You should be grateful that I would indulge that childish sweet tooth of yours.”

Multiple explanations ran through his head: it was White Day, and he wasn’t a woman; Percival was still being condescending; he’d given their captain and a few others the exact same cookies.

None of them were wrong, but if those were his only grievances, Lancelot might have swallowed down his pride and accepted, seeing as the other man seemed to be trying in his own way to show his love.

“No, not unless-”

Not unless he had the decency to remove his gauntlets. In his head, he could admit that he liked the sensation of them digging deep into his skin, piercing through him just like Percival’s intense gaze, but to be fed by them?

That was an indignity that Lancelot wouldn’t stand for, but the words didn’t come out fast enough; no, before he could even finish his rejection, the cookie in Percival’s hand crumbled to pieces under the weight of his anger. The huff that left Percival couldn’t possibly cover the extent of his irritation—the rejection must have stung.

“Fine. I’ll just give them to the lap dog.” It was almost perfect, the way he turned exactly one-hundred and eighty degrees without a moment’s hesitation to stalk off. This meant, of course, that Lancelot had to reach out, taking his now free hand and giving it a tug to pull him back.

Narrowed red met sparkling blue, and Lancelot couldn’t help the soft laughter that escaped him.

“Let me finish! Take off your gauntlets, and I’ll let you feed me.”

It earned him another huff, but his smile widened as Percival’s expression softened. It wasn’t a drastic change, of course, but he’d stopped glaring for the most part.

A few moments passed; Lancelot released the cold metal hand in his own and watched as his love removed his claws and the gloves underneath that protected his hands. Briefly, he mourned the loss of one of his cookies, but there were still three more in perfect condition. One was quickly pressed to his lips, and Lancelot got lost in the sweetness of it. A sugar cookie that almost melted in his mouth; they weren’t quite as good as Vane’s baking, which meant that Percival had gone to the market for them, but they were still delicious.

The cookies weren’t nearly as satisfying as kissing warm fingers covered in tiny bits of cookie crumbs, of course. Lancelot had risked sweet treats and an argument, but the result made it all worthwhile, especially when fingers were exchanged for warm lips and the swipe of a tongue. Their armor bumped together awkwardly, and the shorter man could feel the vibration of the impact while the  _clang_ of it rang in his ears. If anything, though, that had him laughing into their kiss.

Pulling away was a shame, and Lancelot tucked a few stray strands of his hair behind one of his ears as he smiled up at his partner.

"Thank you, Percival."

 _I love you._ The words went unspoken; actions came easier than words, and he knew that stating it aloud would only cause himself to overthink it when Percival didn't respond in kind. If nothing came up, they could spend the rest of the day together, and Lancelot would be sure to give him the chocolate covered strawberries that he'd prepared the day before.


End file.
